Take Me Higher by Pamela Clare
Chapter 16
Somehow Mitch managedto keep his hands to himself, despite the beautiful, naked almost-woman beside him. They stayed in the Jacuzzi until their fingers and toes grew wrinkled and the sky was full of stars. Then they came inside, walking hand in hand, naked and wet.
Mitch took a shower first, shaving away the day’s stubble. He couldn’t imagine that whisker burn would feel good on Megs’ inner thighs. Then he slipped into one of two blue velour robes hanging in the bathroom and went in search of Megs.
He found her wrapped in a towel in the living room. “Your turn.”
“Nice bathrobe.”
While she showered, he got things arranged in the bedroom—condoms, champagne on ice, candles, a book of poetry by Kahlil Gibran. Then he started a fire in the bedroom fireplace and glanced at his watch.
10:30
An hour and a half to go.
Good grief.
Was he nervous?
Hell, yes, he was.
Megs walked into the bedroom, her long hair damp, the robe far too big for her, its sleeves hanging beyond her fingertips. “Candles and champagne. This is romantic.”
He drew her into his arms. “I have waited so long for this night. I want to make it special for you.”
“You already have.”
He kissed her, exploring her mouth with lips and tongue, until his blood ran hot. Then he drew her over to the bed, picked up the book, handed it to her. “I bought you this for your birthday.”
She ran her hand over the cover. “The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.”
“He wrote amazing poetry, some of it about love. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
She looked up at him. “Thank you.”
They read poems together every night back at Camp 4, so they climbed into bed and took turns reading to each other, his arm around her shoulder, her head resting against his chest.
“You bookmarked a page.” Megs turned to that page.
“I’ll read this one.” He took the book from her. “Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”
“That’s beautiful.” Megs took the book and set it on the nightstand.
“Don’t you want to hear the rest?”
“I’m done reading about love, Mitch. I’m tired of waiting. Kiss me.”
Technically, the law prohibited penetrative sex, so Mitch would just have to make the foreplay last until midnight. Well, no problem there.
“Come here.” He drew her onto his lap and, remembering the past abuse she’d suffered, did his best to set the tone. “I want you to enjoy tonight, Megs. I don’t want to rush it, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. We’ll start slow, okay? If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”
“Okay.”
He tugged on the velour belt of her bathrobe, let the fabric fall from her shoulders to reveal her naked body. “You are so beautiful.”
“You really think so?” There was the vulnerability she always tried to hide.
He cupped her breasts, ran his thumbs over her nipples, and watched them draw tight. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes drifting shut, her hands coming to rest on his.
He kept it up, encouraged by her response, plucking her nipples, pinching and rolling their tips between his fingers. Then, needing more, he wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her closer, and sucked one puckered nipple into his mouth.
Hell, yes.
“Oh!” She gasped and arched into him, her hands sliding behind his neck to hold on as he teased her and laved her with his tongue.
But there was more to her breasts than nipples.
He licked the sensitive underside of one breast, nipped the sides with his lips, grazed the tip of her nipple with his teeth, gratified by her little whimpers and moans. He shifted to the other breast, lavishing the same attention on it until her fingers were clenched in his hair. And then he just had to kiss her.
He raised his head, looked into sweet gray eyes that had gone smoky, then claimed her mouth with his, bearing her back onto the bed.
For the first time, he didn’t hold back, but kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her since that day at the lake. And, oh, God, she kissed him back, giving as good as she got, the two of them sparring for control, neither of them willing to yield.
He broke the kiss, smiled down at her. “Damn, girl.”
She tugged at his bathrobe. “I want to feel you.”
Mitch was only too happy to oblige. He sat back on his heels, untied the robe, and let it fall to the floor, his gaze raking over her, an emotion stronger than desire hitting him in the solar plexus. “Megs.”
Her gaze slid over him, fixing on his erect cock. She sat up, ran her hands over his pecs, her thumbs grazing his nipples. “I love the way you feel—so hard.”
He sucked in a breath, watched her expression change as she explored him, her hands moving to his abs and then down to his erection.
She got a feel for him, moving her hand along his length. “Is this right?”
“Let me show you.” He placed his hand over hers, tightening her grip, his breath catching when she got it right. “Just … like … that.”
He let her play, his hips thrusting into her fist.
But this was moving too fast.
He drew her hand away. “I don’t want the party to end before it starts. Lie down.”
She did as he asked, watching him, her hair fanned against her pillow.
He picked up her foot, kissed her sole and each of her toes, working his way over the bridge of her foot to her ankle and then the inside of her calf.
“That tickles.”
“It does?” He nibbled his way up the inside of her leg, his fingers caressing the sensitive back of her knee.
By the time he reached her inner thigh, her eyes were closed once more, one of her hands fisted in the sheets.
Anticipation was one hell of an aphrodisiac.
He kissed his way to the top of her thigh, her scent filling his head, sending a jolt of pure lust through him. Then he remembered the fantasy she’d shared this past summer, so he kissed her curls, letting his tongue slide into her cleft to tease her clit.
Her breath caught, and her body arched.
God, she tasted good.
But when he raised himself back up and picked up her other foot to start over, she moaned in frustration. “That’s not what you said you would do.”
“Patience. There’s a lot more of you to taste.”
And a half-hour still until midnight.
A knock at the door.
Megs stopped reading just as Kim opened the door. “The lab is here for another blood draw, and I need to change out his antibiotics.”
More than a little turned on by what she’d just read, she had to bite back a smile. “Do what you need to do.”
Mitch watched her, something akin to fascination in his eyes. Did he understand what she was reading? Did he remember that night?
Kim hooked up the new bag of antibiotics. “How is he doing?”
“He seems to be doing fine. I’m still reading. We haven’t finished yet.” Megs almost laughed out loud at her own words.
Kim headed toward the door. “I’ll be back in about an hour with more meds.”
“Thanks.”
Then the lab tech came with a cart to draw blood from his subclavian line.
“Thank you.” Megs’ gaze met Mitch’s as the tech left them alone again, closing the door behind him. “Now, where were we?”
“Patience.There’s so much more of you to taste.”
Mitch’s heart pounded as if he were climbing a 5.12. After waiting for so long, tonight was the night. It almost didn’t seem real. He had half expected her to give up on him when he was away at school and find another man, someone who would be only too willing to take advantage of her.
But here she was, naked and warm and his—at least for tonight.
She let out a breath, her hands fisting in the sheets again, as he tasted his way up her other leg, lingering on her most sensitive places. When he reached the top of her thigh again, he did what he’d done before, licking her, taking a hit of her.
She bucked, moaned.
But he wasn’t finished.
He kissed his way over her hips, her belly, her ribcage, and her breasts once more, before finally nibbling his way along the column of her throat.
“Mitch! You’re torturing me!”
“Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.” He kissed her again, let his hand explore her breasts and belly, moving downward in slow circles, savoring the silky feel of her skin.
Then he cupped her and felt a thrill at the way her hips rose to meet his touch. “Show me what you like.”
She wasn’t shy, but reached down to touch herself, and he felt a sense of pride that she could claim her sexuality without awkwardness.
He watched, the sight of her pleasuring herself making him burn. Then he nudged her hand aside and took over, stroking her clit with his fingers. “Like this?”
“Mmm, yes!” She bent one knee and let it fall open to make room for him.
“That’s right, love. Open up for me.”
Once he was sure he had the hang of things, he built on the motion, exploring her, going for variations on a theme—a little more pressure here, a teasing caress there, a finger circling the entrance to her vagina.
God, she was wet.
Damn.
Oh, he wanted to slide a finger inside her, but he couldn’t—not yet.
He lowered his mouth to one breast and feasted on her, his hand still busy between her thighs, need for her thrumming in his chest.
She whimpered, moaned his name, her thighs spreading wider, the fingers of one hand clenching in his hair, the nails of the other biting into her own thigh. “Mitch.”
It turned him on to see her so turned on—and to know he was responsible.
But he’d gotten a taste of her, and he was hungry for more.
He raised himself, sat back on his heels, and caught her legs behind her knees, pushing them back until they almost touched her shoulders. Then he slowly and deliberately lowered his gaze to her most private flesh. “Oh, Megs.”
The sight of her sent blood rushing to his already rock-hard cock, made his balls draw tight and his brain go blank. He tried to remember what he’d told her he would do to her. Then he knelt between her thighs, lowered his mouth to her, and licked, groaning as her taste danced over his tongue.
“Mitch.” She moaned his name, her fingers sliding into his hair.
He stroked her where she was most sensitive, his tongue playing with her clit until her every exhale was a ragged moan, her fingers pulling at his hair. Then he did what he’d said he’d do—and sucked her clit into his mouth.
“Oh, God!”
He stroked her with his lips and tongue, suckled her, her hips lifting to meet his caresses, forcing him to hold her in place.
That’s when he noticed the time.
Oh, thank God.
One minute to midnight.
He stopped, reached for a condom, smiling at her protests.
“You can’t stop now!”
“Who’s stopping? We’re counting down the last minute to the end of your virginity.” He held out the condom. “Want to help?”
She sat up, her hair a glorious tangle. “Hell, yes!”
He showed her how to do it, let her roll the condom down his length. Then he stretched out on his back and reached for her, helping her to straddle him. “You’re going to control the pace. You decide how much of me to take inside you and how fast. Do what feels good.”
“Will it hurt?” Her gaze met his, a mix of desire and nervousness in her eyes, her hands splayed on his chest for balance.
“It might. You can always stop.” He glanced at his watch, followed the second hand. “Five… four… three… two… one. Happy Birthday, love.”
He held his cock in place for her, one hand on her hip, as she settled herself above him. He hoped she was aroused enough that this would be easy.
As soon as she began to take him inside her, she tensed, sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. “Oh!”
So it was painful.
Damn.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad.”
Mitch held himself still for her. “Relax. Take it easy.”
She exhaled, her eyes drifting shut.
Then slowly, inch by inch, Megs took him inside her.
Sweet Jesus.
It had been almost two years since Mitch had been with a woman, the tight, hot feel of her stealing his breath. He willed himself to relax and to focus on Megs and not on the thrum of his own need. “Give yourself time to get used to me being inside you.”
She opened her eyes, the erotic smile that played over her lips making his heart thud. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
Then she began to move slowly up and down.
Mitch savored the sight of his cock moving in and out of her, pleasure unfurling along the base of his spine. But he doubted this would be good for her.
He grasped her hips to still her. “My cock isn’t a pogo stick, love. You don’t have to bounce up and down. Do what feels good to you.”
He watched, awed by her as she experimented, searching for her own rhythm. It was like watching a flower open, seeing her transform from teenage girl to fully sexual woman. It meant more than he could say that she had chosen him for this moment.
First, she moved her hips in circles. Then she tried rocking herself against him, her breath catching when she found her sweet spot. “This feels so good.”
Mitch caressed her breasts, palming them, teasing their tight nipples. He focused on her and not the ache in his groin, keeping his hips still, giving her the time she needed. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She moved faster now, her eyes squeezed shut, her nails biting into his chest, her breath coming in shudders as she rode him.
He reached between her thighs to stroke her clit, then tried to match her motions with quick, shallow thrusts.
“Oooh, yes.” She moaned out his name. “Mitch!”
Desire for her beat in his chest, the sexual anguish on her face driving him crazy. She was strung out on him, caught in that space where pleasure was torment, every exhale a moan. Then she sucked in a breath—and shattered.
“Mitch!” She cried out, bliss shining on her sweet face.
She was a glimpse of heaven, the sight of her overwhelmed by sexual pleasure putting an ache in Mitch’s chest.
He was lost in her, in love with her, and there was no turning back.
He kept up the rhythm with his fingers until her climax had passed and she collapsed, spent, against his chest. Then he held her, kissed her hair, his senses full of her, his cock still hard and buried inside her.
She raised her head, her eyes still smoky, her hair a tangled mess. “Sex is the best thing ever. It’s even better than climbing.”
Well, that didn’t hurt his ego.
“Better than climbing?” In a single move, he flipped her onto her back, smiling at her surprised gasp. “That’s good, because it’s not over.”
He wrapped her legs around his waist, looked into her beautiful eyes. Knowing she might be sore, he started with slow, deep thrusts. “How does that feel?”
“Perfect.” She ran her hands over his pecs to his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”
Mitch wanted this to last, but endless months of longing for her had taken their toll, his self-control dangerously close to unraveling. “I’ve waited so long for this, so long for you.”
Harder, faster.
He could tell from her face and the way her nails dug into his shoulders that she was aroused again, too. Well, he couldn’t leave her wanting.
He shifted his position, tried to graze her clit with his cock on each deep thrust, his control worn down to a single thread, orgasm building deep in his belly. But he had to hold on. He had to hold on for Megs.
She moaned, her eyes drifting shut again. “Oh!”
Harder, faster.
He was hanging on by his fingertips now, so close to that bright edge. He willed himself to relax, held himself deep inside her, grinding his pubic bone against hers.
Oh, yeah, she liked that.
Her breath came in pants now, her heels pressing hard against his ass as if to hold him in place. “So… good… so… good. Mitch!”
She arched beneath him, crying out as orgasm claimed her again.
At last, Mitch let himself go, driving into her hard, every thrust taking him higher until he plummeted over the edge, falling with her into paradise.
They lay there, Mitch still inside her, as their heartbeats slowed.
He had to say it. “I love you, Megs.”
She moaned, but it was a sad sound. “I love you, too, and it scares the hell out of me. Please don’t turn out to be a jerk.”
He chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”
Megs closed the journal,a rush of emotion making her chest feel tight. She took Mitch’s hand, spoke to him even though he was sleeping. “You wanted that night to be special, and it was. It was one of the most incredible nights of my life. The great mystery of sex turned out to be even more magical than I had imagined.”
She knew from speaking with other women that it didn’t always go like that. Many women didn’t climax the first time. Some found it painful. Others thought the whole experience had been awkward and embarrassing.
“You have always put me first, even when I didn’t. If that’s not love…” She set the journal aside, turned down the lights, drew the blanket over the sheet. “By the way, I looked in those mirrors. I watched you when you were on top, and, damn, it was erotic.”
The sight of his muscular ass clenching as he drove himself into her was on her Top 10 Sexual Thrills list.
But it was late, and she desperately needed a full night’s sleep.
She kissed his cheek. “You’re still that man, you know—the one who made my first time perfect. In my eyes, you always will be.”
She left the hospital, went back to the hotel, and fell asleep, still in her clothes.